


I Trust You

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Series: TF Anon Kinky Meme Fills [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Affection, Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 21:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: So much has befallen Prowl since Cybertron was rebuilt and Starscream became ruler. And he's breaking. No one seems to notice or care, but then his old leader arrives to make things right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Anonymous on tfanonkinkmeme. Here is the link: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=15924373
> 
> I think it's an OK story. Like, not one of the best, but I think I did alright. Let me know what you all think.

Optimus noticed that Prowl was uncharacteristically silent as he led the way from the prison. Well, more silent than he tended to be as of late.   
  
  


The constructicons had said nothing when the prime arrived for Prowl, only watched through red visors as their ‘leader’ was taken away.   
  
  


They didn't know what would happen.   
  
  


And neither did Prowl.   
  
  


But he didn't ask.   
  
  


Optimus was silent as well as he lead the way through the compound and out into the street. It had taken a good deal of debate with Starscream before the Prime had been allowed to take Prowl into his own custody.   
  
  


It wasn't lost to the larger autobot the way his smaller companion's door wings fluttered upon contact with the sun. Being imprisoned -even for a short time- had done a number on the Enforcer.   
  


  
Though neither of them spoke, they both knew what the other was doing. Eons of living in close quarters during the war had made sure of that.    
  
  


Prowl was calculating what was going to happen, or the purpose his old leader might have for bailing him out.   
  
  


Optimus was trying to figure out how to effectively reprimand him for his "unorthodox" actions... Actions that hadn't been his own...   
  
  


And no one had noticed...   
  
  


The black and white mech’s door wings lowered in distress at the memory. A blaster in his servo, pulling the trigger in an attempt to kill Wheeljack, one of his oldest friends, and no one had realized he had been under the control of a decepticon.   
  


  
Nor did they care.   
  


  
A light touch to his right door wing had Prowl flinching, caught off guard as he looked up at Optimus.   
  
  


The prime smiled faintly, almost comfortingly, and Prowl felt a flicker of hope.   
  
  


His leader still cared about him. Right?   
  
  


The touch vanished, and the praxian’s spark quailed in distress at the loss of contact.   
  
  


How he wanted touch.   
  
  


"Come, Prowl."   
  
  


The familiar baritone had Prowl;s door wings fluttering in relief, the Enforcer following behind his prime like a homeless cyberpuppy.   
  
  


Optimus smiled at how trustingly Prowl followed him, though his spark sank at the emotions in the blue optics, hidden behind a stoic mask.    
  
  


Prowl had needed him, and he had failed so terribly.   
  
  


The red and blue mech turned away to key the code into the entrance to his suite, stepping aside to allow the smaller mech to enter first.   
  


  
The black and white mech did, though his movements were stiff, and his optics darted around as if awaiting an attack. Door wings tensed as the door locked behind him.   
  
  


"This way, Prowl." Optimus ordered gently, taking the praxian’s servo to lead him further into the suite.    
  
  


The way the smaller mech clung to his servo like it was a lifeline saddened the mech. How had things gotten so terrible that it took so much for him to realize it?   
  
  


Optimus shook his helm as he gently guided Prowl into a main room, asking him to sit on the couch before vanishing.   
  
  


Prowl sat on the very edge, as if poised to run at any moment. His EM was drawn in close as he watched Optimus disappear into another room, a flicker of desperation cutting through his pulsating spark. He could run. Why had Optimus brought him here?

  
  


The enforcer glanced over at the window. It looked too high to jump, from what he could see. 

  
  


But perhaps death was all he had to look forwards too.

  
  


Optimus appeared again, nothing in his servos though the left looked like it had been wet.   
  
  


The larger autobot settled himself behind the enforcer silently, gently tugging the black and white mech further onto the couch.   
  
  


Prowl tensed, door wings trembling violently in distress as careful digits flattened against the sides of the sensitive panels.   
  


  
"I’m sorry, Prowl." Optimus whispered, gently kneading the warm metal of the enforcer’s doorwings,  working from the base up in an attempt at relaxing the praxian.   
  
  


Prowl shook, the touch he had craved for eons finally being given, vents hitching as he fought the welling emotions. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting, and his processor was reeling.   
  
  


"You're so smart, Prowl. " Optimus continued as if he hadn’t noticed the confusion, massaging the enforcer sigil painted proudly on the middle of each doorwing, pressing the heel of his palm against it. "We would've lost the war without you."   
  
  


The tactician trembled now, doorwings twitching and flicking as Prowl devoured each word, every ounce of praise his Prime would give.    
  
  


"We never did appreciate you enough," Optimus whispered, digits wriggling their way into the joint of the doorwings, tangling with the sensitive circuitry as Prowl squirmed. “I never appreciated you like I should’ve.”   
  
  


Still no noise.   
  
  


The prime’s lips twitched in bitter amusement. Prowl’s resolve was still as strong as he remembered.   
  
  


"You saved so many lives my dear mech..." The red and blue autobot vented softly, warm air washing over the right appendage, a sound escaping the enforcer that sounded suspiciously like a whine... "My finest autobot... I’m so sorry I never paid much attention to you. Never gave anything back for your endless service."   
  
  


Prowl was shaking so hard he wondered if his plating rattled above the roar in his audios.   
  
  


Optimus cared. Optimus was rubbing his wings so gently, large servos sliding over smooth plating until Prowl’s frame warmed considerably, his sensornet prickling in the very beginnings of a charge.   
  
  


He let out a choked sob, trying his best to hold the rest back.   
  
  


Optimus smiled faintly in relief when the praxian finally began to cry, though it was apparent he was fighting it.   
  
  


"Let go Prowl... Let me take care of you." the larger mech murmured, lips brushing a sensitive appendage, the prime mouthing and kissing the white and black metal.   
  
  


The enforcer tensed up when he felt lips against his doorwings, a shiver passing through him as he attempted to stay still, frame jerking slightly with a muffled sob. No one had cared! Not for so long! They’d only cared about his abilities, his mind. Never him. Never the mech they belonged to!

  
  


The prime didn’t let up in his gentle touching after that initial whimper, faceplates gentle as he massaged the base of each doorwing before working his way back up, rubbing gently but firmly. He could feel Prowl’s frame warming a little, but that wasn’t what Prowl truly needed.

  
  


Prowl needed to know someone cared.

  
  


Biting his lower lip, the younger mech shut his optics, just basking in the sensation of  _ feeling _ . Of someone touching, each brush of a digit or squeeze of a servo comforting, the larger mech’s EM field cocooning him in warmth and a sense of safety.

  
  


Optimus worked quietly, murmuring soft praises and apologies into the smaller mech’s audio, wrapping his arms around Prowl before standing, carrying the mech effortlessly into the washracks.

  
  


Lifted up in the strong embrace of his prime, Prowl couldn’t control himself any longer and he broke down, sharp, violent sobs rattling his frame as Optimus only pulled him closer. He cried, cried for the eons of pain and loneliness, arms wrapping around his old leader’s neck, clinging to Optimus as if his life depended on it.

  
  


And it very well did.

  
  


Gently, Optimus carried Prowl into the washracks where the oil bath was waiting, leaning over to gently deposit the praxian into the warmth when Prowl’s grip tightened and he began to cry even harder.

  
  


The prime barely hesitated as he climbed into the bath, carefully seating himself so as to keep balance and not fall over, settling the crying mech in his lap.

  
  


Optimus crooned gently to the enforcer, the oil bath coming up to the praxian’s chin from his place straddling the blue waist, the prime’s shoulders above the water as he supported the smaller, but he didn’t mind.

  
  


Prowl clung to the larger mech like a frightened sparkling, hiding his faceplates in Optimus’ neck, arms wrapped tight around the bigger mech, the praxian even wrapping his legs around his leader’s waist. 

  
  


“I’m so sorry, Prowl.” Optimus murmured, arms wrapping around the black and white mech in a firm embrace, digits rubbing soothing patterns into the praxian’s back plating. “You are my finest autobot. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you this past while.”

  
  


The prime’s words soothed the ache in Prowl’s spark, his processor wanting nothing more than to believe that someone, that  _ his prime _ , actually cared about him.

  
  


Optimus smiled faintly as Prowl’s sobs began to die down, the praxian’s plating flaring slightly to let the warm, soothing oil into his circuitry, the mech’s faceplates still hidden so the prime couldn’t see how he felt, but the shudder of enjoyment was clear enough.

  
  


Flaring his own armour outwards, little ripples appearing in the surface of the oil, Optimus reached over to grab a bottle of solvent. “Sit up for me, Prowl?” The bigger mech asked gently, nudging the praxian.

  
  


The enforcer trembled, sniffing every few moments before he reluctantly allowed himself to be sat up, digits curling along the edges of red chassis armour, making it clear he wouldn’t be moved from the prime’s lap.

  
  


Optimus took a moment to gently massage one of the smaller mech’s shoulders. “I’m here now, Prowl. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” The blue and red mech murmured, tone smooth and caring to the point where new tears welled up in Prowl’s optics, threatening to spill over.

  
  


Squeezing some of the solvent into his servo, Optimus began to scrub Prowl’s chassis, paying special attention to the autobot sigil, glaring red against the pristine white. Gentle servos worked their way over white shoulders, up the fragile neck cabling to the enforcer’s helm.

  
  


“No one cares.” Prowl choked out, not meeting the blue gaze above him, staring instead at the truck’s grill. 

  
  


Optimus regarded the hurting mech silently for a moment, lathered servo sliding down to Prowl’s chin, knuckles trailing over the firm jawline, tilting the praxian’s helm upwards. “I care.” The prime responded gently, thumb smoothing over the protoform along the corner of the white mech’s lips.

  
  


“No one  _ knew _ it wasn’t me.” Prowl insisted, seeming to choke on his words as hurt, angry tears rolled down his cheeks. “I placed a gun to Wheeljack’s helm and  _ shot _ him! Everyone thought that  _ I _ had done that!! Nobody  _ knew _ it wasn’t me!!” He attempted to shout, but the words came out hoarse, broken.

  
  


The servo at Prowl’s chin moved to cup the handsome faceplates, caressing lightly. “I would know.” Optimus responded in a soft tone, leaning closer to Prowl, pausing before their lips touched, giving the praxian a chance to pull away if he wanted to.

  
  


Prowl was tense as soft lips brushed against his own, the kiss careful, gentle as it deepened, a servo finding the back of the praxian’s helm, one arm wrapping around his back to pull their waists together.

  
  


A small smile curled the corners of Optimus’ lips as he kissed his tactician, the praxian’s doorwings slowly flicking in interest as Prowl relaxed and began to actively returned the kiss. 

  
  


A soft moan escaped the praxian as Optimus’ glossa demanded entrance into the enforcer’s mouth, lips parting to give access.

  
  


Prowl’s cooling fans were humming at their highest setting, Optimus’ digits massaging the joints of the other’s doorwings, loving the way his old SIC arched into the touch, breaking the kiss. 

  
  


“Wh-What are you doing?” Prowl demanded, frame shaking slightly, tears glistening in his optics again.

  
  


Smiling gently, Optimus reached up to wipe away the tears that spilled over. “Showing you how much I care. I know who you are Prowl. I knew it wasn’t you when I read the reports.” The prime responded softly, kissing the corner of that frown. “Just let me take care of you.”

  
  


Prowl vented shakily as large servos closed around his own, pressing his palm against red shoulders. “Don’t worry about anything. Just feel, Prowl.” That deep voice whispered against his audio, a shudder passing through the praxian.

  
  


Clever digits tapped down the smaller mech’s spinal strut, the praxian whimpering softly as they located his doorwings again. Optimus’ mouth was at his neck, his lips, his chevron, everywhere. His frame heated gradually, and the plating against his own was growing hot to the touch.

  
  


“Prime.” Prowl moaned, bucking slightly as a servo cupped his aft, pulling him closer. 

  
  


Everything was warm and comfortable and safe, the stronger EM field meshing with his own pulsed gentle reassurances, affection and safety, over and over again.

  
  


Optimus watched as the mech in his lap became undone. Stoic, frightened,  _ hurting _ Prowl moaning and gasping with his every touch, small servos gripping red shoulders as Optimus nuzzled against neck cabling.

  
  


He’d been right in his first assumption upon seeing Prowl in the prison with the constructicons. Prowl had been hurting, starving for someone to rescue him from himself. 

  
  


Prowl wasn’t as untouchable as he liked to believe.

  
  


“Optimus.” The enforcer gasped out, arching slightly as a thumb digit rubbed firm circles against his valve cover.

  
  


“I’m here, Prowl.” Optimus responded gently, feeling the disturbance of the oil when Prowl’s valve panel slid open, a digit pressing up against the rim of it, gently testing for lubricant.

  
  


Clinging to Optimus, Prowl gasped as a digit eased its way into his valve, spreading his legs a little wider as it began to thrust in and out of him slowly to get him to lubricate, soon joined by a second.

  
  


The praxian was gasping, optics brighter by several shades as servos gripped Optimus’ shoulders tightly, tears brimming again before spilling over as the prime bared his spike.

  
  


Noticing the tears, Optimus soothingly caressed the handsome faceplates, wiping each tear away with the same gentle affection that could be read in the brilliant blue of Optimus’ optics as he leaned closer, Prowl shivering as hot air washed over his audio. “Tell me to stop, Prowl.” The prime whispered.

  
  


Prowl knew he was being given a way out, but the praxian shook his helm, desperate servos finding Optimus’ faceplates to pull him closer into a desperate, broken kiss. The smaller mech’s lips moving against his leader’s, offering so much and asking for so little in return. 

 

“Don’t stop.” Prowl pleaded as he pulled away, venting a little heavier than before. “Please don’t stop now.”

  
  


Optimus wrapped an arm around behind the Praxian’s backstrut, angling the black and white mech’s hips so his spike prodded his entrance. “I’m not leaving, Prowl… I was wrong to do so. Wrong to not acknowledge you or keep you safe.” Optimus responded softly as he gently pulled his tactician down over his spike.

  
  


Both mechs moaned, Prowl arching as he was filled with that thick length. It stretched him so well, taking all of his focus into the sensations that it brought, and the mech choked on a sob of relief. “Thank you. Thank you.” The enforcer repeated it over and over again like a mantra.

  
  


Rolling his hips gently, Optimus began to give slow, deep thrusts, grinding against his companion’s ceiling node with each inward thrust. The pleasure on the dark faceplates worth everything to the prime. To see Prowl like this again. To see him  _ feel _ .

  
  


He would never want for something so much again.

  
  


“I trust you Prowl. I know who you are.” The red and blue autobot whispered, Prowl’s hazy gaze locking onto him again, the tears still glistening in his optics, but no more fell. Instead, an enraptured smile spread over the other mech’s faceplates as he leaned in for another kiss.

  
  


A kiss swirling with emotion, filled with sounds of pleasure.

  
  


Pulling away, Prowl began to move himself over the Prime’s spike, lips parted tantalizingly as he vented, optics half shut as he took his pleasure, Optimus’ servos mapping out the scuffed armour.

  
  


The larger mech buried his faceplates in the sensitive cabling of Prowl’s throat, tasting it. Denta teasing the enforcer’s throat as Optimus drank in every moan and plea.

  
  


“Optimus!” Prowl cried out, valve clenching down on the spike stretching it so tastefully. “My prime.” He gasped as Optimus showered his chevron with kisses. The pleasure was so familiar, yet so foreign. He hadn’t felt it in so long…

 

The familiar heat gathered in the praxian’s abdomen, Prowl whimpering as Optimus’ servos found his hips to help him chase his overload, the friction against his nodes taking his processor off of everything. If even for a short time.

  
  


For now, it was just himself and his prime.

  
  


Optimus pulled Prowl close to press a kiss against his audial, optics half shut as he gave it a little lick. “Prowl, I trust you.”

  
  


The autobot arched and let out a sob of release, Prowl pushed over the edge with the trust those words were spoken with, Optimus drinking in the sight of Prowl in release. Everything he’d said was true. He wasn’t leaving Prowl again, he would take care of the enforcer.

  
  


But most of all, it Optimus would have Prowl feeling again.


End file.
